I've always loved company holiday parties. As Ken and I made our way through the Sheraton and into the ballroom, I remembered why. Everyone was dressed to the nines. No matter what position they held at the office, no matter who they were at work, at the holiday party everyone was equally beautiful. A secretary in a long red gown danced with the CEO. He smiled into her eyes as he whisked her around the dance floor. The top salesman, dressed in a pinstriped suit, was chatting with a manager, each of them holding an elegant glass of champagne. The third-floor janitor walked by.
"Hank, Ken," he nodded at us.
"James, looking good," I noted with a smile.
Ken laughed next to me.
"What?" I asked.
"The vice president's hair..." he started.
I chuckled. "Does she ever dye it a natural color?"
She had her hand on the chest the CEO's assistant, giggling in a short purple gown with diamonds glinting off her neck and wrists. One of the consultants, a dark-haired woman in a silver dress, clapped and laughed as the PR representative danced with an imaginary partner.
I turned to Ken. "Hey, where's the bathroom?"
"Oh, hang on." Ken put down his drink and glanced around. "You ready?" he asked after a moment.
I smiled, adjusting my tie. "Yeah"
"Let's do it," Ken said, taking my arm and leading me out of the room.